


Moving on without you

by Aviss



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Amnesia, Angst with a Happy Ending, Drama, First Time, Grief/Mourning, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Not Really Character Death, Recovery
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-31
Updated: 2016-03-12
Packaged: 2018-05-17 09:59:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,044
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5864863
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aviss/pseuds/Aviss
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After a mission goes as badly as possible, Finn has to learn to cope with grief and loss while they still have a war to fight. Luckily he is not alone.</p><p>On a neutral planet, the stranger that fell from the sky is nursed back to health. He has no name and nothing but a broken astromech and a torn flight suit. And the feeling that there is something important he needs to remember.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Gone

**Author's Note:**

> I love this pairing, and they are so sweet and cute together that of course I could not help myself and had to write them some good old fashioned angst. 
> 
> This is unbetaed, because I am impatient like that, so feel free to point out if I have made any mistakes.

_The main control room is full of people, General Organa standing in the centre where a holo map shows the activity surrounding a suspected First Order outpost. The resistance had received word from some allies on the planet Suuran, rumours of the First Order harvesting children to make up from the number of troopers lost in the Starkiller, and the General had not hesitated to send a mission. Poe had volunteered for it, a steely glint in his eyes during the briefing, his hand clenched tightly around Finn's. Nobody had suspected a trap, a lure for the resistance to send their best, but it is exactly that. The First Order is waiting for them, the resistance pilots taking fire the instant they are within orbit of the planet; in the room the air is filled with the voices of the Blue and Red squad, and the sounds of combat against TIE-fighters._

_Finn listens to the voices of the pilots and the strategists around him, wishing he could be up there with them instead of still grounded, recovering from a wound that is taking too long to heal._

_"Black Leader, abort mission," the General finally says, the light of another of their pilots winking out in the map._

_"Copy that, General," Poe's voice comes clear through the comms system, and Finn releases a breath he didn't know he was holding. "Blue squad, Red squad, abort mission. Ready for hyperdrive."_

_Several voices echo the order through the channel._

_"Red squad ready."_

_"Blue squad ready."_

_"On my mark. Three, two--"_

_There is a screeching sound that seems to blanket the entire control room, followed by a loud explosion and then white noise. Everyone holds their breath, wide eyed, ears straining for any sound on the other side of the connection._

_Then there's the sound of a comms channel being opened, and a choked voice confirms their worst fears. "We have lost Black Leader. I repeat, Black Leader has been hit. Blue and Red squads, hyperdrive now." Snap announces before the transmission is cut. "_ Fuck, Poe. _"_

_Finn looks around the control room, uncomprehending. Everyone around is staring at him with an stricken expression, and he can't understand why he appears to be the center of attention right now. It is not until he sees the devastation in the General's eyes that he understands what he just heard._

_"_ No _."_

…

Finn wakes up in stages, slowly surfacing from his dream; the control room dissolves around him and his room, the one he shares with Poe, takes form. He takes a deep breath, trying to calm his pounding heart, and blinks a few times before he turns to make sure his nightmare has not disturbed his room mate. It wouldn't be the first time his trashing, and sometimes screaming, has woken up Poe, and Finn always feels terrible when that happens; Poe gets little enough sleep as it is, his own nightmares making it difficult for him to snatch more a few hours each night.

On the other side of the room Poe's bunk is empty and cold, the same it has been for the last few days, and reality crashes over Finn again making his eyes sting and the breath stick to his throat.

It was a memory, not a nightmare.

He lets the grief wash over him, biting his lips to keep from sobbing and screaming at the unfairness of all, raging at the First Order from taking everything from him again. Once he is calmer Finn takes a deep breath, wipes his eyes and stands from the bed. He goes into the refresher, washes and dresses quickly, and heads to the med-bay for his physiotherapy.

It's day three without Poe and they still have a war to win.

…

Finn spends all his waking hours either doing physical therapy or in training.

In the morning he runs around the compound before breakfast, then goes to a two hour weapons training session. After therapy he has lunch, and hand to hand combat, and flying classes. Once that is finished he goes to the gym and trains some more on his own, anything to avoid going back to his cold, empty room.

He is having dinner on his own in the mess, the food that he enjoyed so much before tasteless now, as bland as the protein mush the First Order used to feed him, when Snap and Jessika sit on either side of him.

He has barely seen them since they returned, has avoided them as much as possible because he knows the anger he feels at them for returning without Poe is unfounded and misplaced. He still feels it, and he can see in their eyes that they know and don't blame him for it; they are also blaming themselves for coming back without their friend.

Finn acknowledges their presence with a nod and goes back to his food. He has no appetite, but consuming the food put in front of him just for the calorie intake is ingrained in him, and he devotes himself to the task with the same single-minded intensity he does everything now.

"You know, Poe would kick our asses if he could see you know," Snap says and Finn feels his chest constrict at the name; is is the first time anyone has said it out loud since that day.

"What--" he starts to say and his voice cracks, throat dry and scratchy. It might be he hasn't spoken to anyone in days and he hasn't even noticed.

He grabs a glass of water and gulps it down.

"That is exactly what we mean," Jess points out with a raised eyebrow, as if she had read his mind. "When was the last time you spoke to anyone, the last time you slept more than a couple of hours? You can't keep like this, withdrawing from everyone and punishing yourself."

"It's not punishment, it's training," Finn protest, though he can't say anything to refute the other part of her argument. He _is_ withdrawing, going back to the regime of work and isolation the First Order taught him.

"Training is what you were doing before." Snap shakes his head and there is a sadness in his eyes that is not just for Poe, but also for Finn, and he can't understand why. He also can't understand what it is he is feeling; he had friends die before--Slip, Slip died on Jakku, and he was the closest thing to a friend Finn had--but it had not felt like this, like there wasn't enough air to fill his lungs anymore and he was always winded, like there was a gaping hole where all the goodness was before and he had nothing to keep him going now. "We understand you are grieving, we all are. Poe was our friend, _our brother_ , and it will take time for that wound to heal. If it ever does."

Grieving. Yes, that is what he is doing, and Snap is right, everyone around him is doing the same; Poe was, besides the General, the most beloved person on the base, a fact that Finn used to find amusing and a bit intimidating when trying to get closer to him. He realizes that he has not heard a laugh or seen a smile around the base since that day, and feels selfish for not noticing he is not the only one who has lost something important.

"I need to train, I need to be able to go out there with you and destroy the First Order. I can't do that as I am now." It is the thing that helps him get out of bed in the morning; he is still weak, was too weak to go in that mission with them, but once he is completely recovered he will fight. "For him, and for myself." He still can't say his name, though.

Jessika nods. "We know, and you will keep training." There is a hardness in her eyes and tone that had not been there before, her own determination to make the First Order pay. "But from now on you train with the Red and Blue squads, and take your meals with us. I will be damned if I let you run yourself into the ground and be as unhappy as you are now. Poe would never forgive me."

"You are not alone, and Poe wasn't the only one who cared for you," Snap adds with finality, clasping his shoulder in a way that is so familiar Finn feels his throat constrict.

They are right; he has friends now, not as good friends as Rey or as special as Poe was, but they care about him.

He doesn't have to do this alone.

…

Finn still has the same dream every night. Still wakes up and looks to Poe's bunk and feels the pain of the loss like new, but during the day he flies simulations with Snap and Iolo, fights hand to hand against Jess, who hands him his ass on a daily basis, strategizes with the General who looks at him with concern and understanding, but never pity.

He talks more, learns new things every day, and keeps going. Ten days without Poe and he hears someone laughing out loud in the mess for the first time, the sound alien enough that he startles and stares wide eyed.

As if a dam had broken, life returns to normal on the base, the oppressive weight of their shared pain lifting a bit more each day, the food regains some taste and his progress begins to show. And if doesn't smile anymore like he used to, doesn't laugh with the same abandon, nobody comments on it.

He is not the only one.

…

Finn gets his own X-wing.  

He's been training for two months, flying simulations and practicing with Snap's X-Wing when he gets the chance, when the General calls him to the hangar. There is a damaged X-Wing in a corner, the pilot who used to fly it too injured during his last mission to keep on active duty.

"It will need to be repaired" the General says, and at first Finn thinks he is assigned just to do that. It is imperative for all pilots to be able to repair their own ships, and he has been learning how to do it, slowly but surely getting the skills necessary to get his own position in one of the squads.

He is back in full health, the injury caused by Kylo's lightsaber completely healed. He has a big scar on his back, a memento of his survival, but he has recovered from it. Like him the ship has sustained considerable damage, but it is not broken; it can be repaired and used again.

"I will fix it to the best of my ability, General." He is nowhere near Rey's level of competence fixing things, but he knows enough now that he can do this.

She smiles at him. "I know you will, Finn." She takes him to the ship, and next to it there's a flight suit and helmet, one with the insignia of the Blue squad. "Once you get it back in the air, you will report to Blue squad for your first mission."

Those are the words he has been waiting to hear for two months, and can't quite believe them now. "General?"

"I think you are ready, and Snap has been telling me it was time to get you back into the fight." She looks at him, pride and sadness in her expression. "Poe would be so proud of you."

Finn can't help the sting in his eyes or the way his heart clenches at the name. It has been two months and it still hurts; he has the feeling this a wound that will never completely heal. "Thanks, General," he says, his throat as dry as Jakku's desert.

She takes his hand and pulls him into a brief embrace, the gesture incredibly comforting. "Get to work," she adds, stepping back and turning to leave the hangar.

Finn watches her retreating back for a moment before he does just that.

…

_"Hey buddy, look what I got for you!"_

_Poe is wearing his flight suit, his helmet in one hand and a jacket in the other. It looks familiar, almost like the one Finn inherited from him and then completely wrecked._

_"You got me another jacket?" Finn asks with a smile. He might have complained about it a time, or a hundred, while he was laid in medical, moaned the fact that he had no possessions except for the jacket Poe had given him, and even that had been destroyed by Kylo Ren._

_It is so typically Poe to get him another one the first chance he gets._

_One thing Finn has learned since he woke up in the base is that Poe Dameron is an extraordinarily generous person. He gives his friendship, his trust, and his time with the ease of someone used to getting those things in return; Poe is friendly with everyone on the base, even the droids, and treats them as if they are all special. When he looks at you and listens to you, it is as if you are the center of his universe. Finn has been subjected to his undivided attention for most of his convalescence, has been assigned to share a room with him at Poe's request, and has been introduced to most of his friends on the base._

_He is the most dangerous man Finn has ever met, and he might be more than a little in love with him._

_"Not another one," Poe says, his entire face lighting up. "I fixed it!"_

_He turns the garment to show the back, and there is a thin seam where the leather was split, but you'd need to look closely at it to be able to see it. Finn doesn't know what to say, doesn't know how to explain the feeling of warmth spreading inside his chest, so he doesn't say anything. He takes two hurried steps and practically topples Poe as he hugs him, arms coming tightly around his waist, face pressed to the crook of his neck._

_"I think he likes it, what do you think?" Poe says, and from next to his feet comes the amused chirping of BB-8. "Yeah, I think so too."_

_"You--" Finn chokes out, voice rough with emotion._

_"It wasn't fair that you lost your first possession, so I fixed it."_

_"Thank you." The words feel insufficient for everything Finn wants to tell him, but they are the only ones he can say now, surrounded as they are by all the other pilots and the noise and bustle of the base before a mission. He'll tell him when Poe gets back._

_Poe seems to know, anyway, and his smile turns soft when he looks at Finn. "Anytime, buddy. Just don't make a habit of almost dying. I'd rather not have to repair it again."_

_"I am not the one going up there to fight now," Finn reminds him. He hates that he has to stay behind on the base while Poe and the other pilots head to danger, but he still needs to finish his physiotherapy. "You take care and come back in one piece."_

_"I'll try my best." Poe squeezes his arm one last time and hands his the jacket. "Come on BB-8, let's go."_

_Finn puts on the jacket and watches him climb into the X-wing, not taking his eyes off it until it disappears in the sky._

...

Finn wakes up with Poe's name on his lips and his face wet. He takes a minute to breathe through the pain and let the memory fade from his consciousness, recede to the back of his mind so he can face the day. Most of the days he still has the same nightmare, the same memory of listening as Poe dies, but from time to time he gets the other ones, the dreams about the time just before he left, about the moment Finn realized just how much he felt for him and yet he let Poe go without telling him.

Those days are worse, grief and regret making it difficult for him to even get out of bed; today he can't afford that, he has a recon mission and needs his wits about him.

With an effort, Finn gets out of his bunk, not even looking at Poe's empty one as goes into the refresher and dresses quickly in his flight suit, gently touching his jacket on the way out of the door.

It is day one hundred and thirty eight without Poe, and they still have a war to win.

…

It is night when he wakes up, the light of its two moons giving the structure around him a silver tint. It looks like a dilapidated hut, little more than four wooden walls with two windows and a closed door.

He groans in pain, feeling every nerve in his body screaming in agony. Every inch of his body feels bruised and battered, there is a pressure in his chest that doesn't allow him to take deep breaths, one of his legs appears to be broken, and his head feels like it's going to split open.

"Welcome to the land of the living," someone says in heavily accented basic, and he turns his head to see an elderly woman, dark skinned and wrinkled, next to the door. He opens his mouth to say something, but no sound comes out, his mouth dry like the dessert.

The woman approaches him, a bag of some leathery animal skin in her hands. She crouches next to his head and puts one end of the bag to his mouth, blessedly cool water filling his mouth. He gulps as much as he can, which is not much, before his stomach clenches in protest, and shakes his head spilling the liquid on his face and letting it run down his neck, the shock of coldness waking him up a bit more.

"What--" he begins to say before he is interrupted by a coughing fit, his chest screaming in pain at the movement. When it passes, he is panting with the effort to hang on to consciousness.

"You have been unconscious for almost two weeks since we found you," the woman says, feeling his forehead with a warm hand, the contact somehow soothing. "We were not sure you were going to make it."

"Where am I?" he croaks, voice breaking and weak.

"You are in Suuran." The name sounds familiar, but his mind his fuzzy and he can't think past the pain. "We found you next to a broken ship after the First Order left; you didn't look like one of them, so we took the risk and brought you back to our settlement. What's your name?"

He stares at the woman as if she has asked for the secrets of the galaxy, a frisson of unease coursing him.

_"I don't know."_

...


	2. The Stranger

 

"Hello, Stranger."

He looks up from his contemplation of the orange flight suit, or what is left of it, to find Ren'qui at the door of the hut. He has been doing this more and more in the past two days since he regained consciousness, staring at the garment as if he could learn anything about himself just by doing that.

He has learned exactly two things; that he seems to be a resistance pilot, and that he can't remember anything at all.

"Hello, Ren'qui."

Ren'qui has been taking care of him since he woke up, bringing him food and water, and talking to him. Her son was the one who found him two weeks ago; he was stuck on the lower branches of a tree, his body hanging by the straps of the flight suit on a branch sturdy enough to hold his weight. At first they had believed him dead, the remnants of a crashed ship still smoking not too far. Shun had taken him down and carried him to their settlement for a proper burial, as it is the custom of their people. He wasn't quite dead yet, though, and Shun brought him to their home, and after some deliberation Ren'qui, as the tribe's elder, had decided to help him and care for him until he was healed.

"It wasn't an easy decision, or a popular one," she had said the first day he had been awake enough to listen to her. "Suuran is a neutral planet on principle; we paid the price of neutrality years ago with the lives of our youngest, and most of us are wary of getting involved in the politics of the galaxy."

The First Order had been on the planet and several others in the same system almost twenty standard years ago, and offered them protection from a war that had nothing to do with them in exchange for their children. Suuran wasn't a rich or advanced planet, with little more than the resources to sustain its people. They had nothing anyone had ever wanted except for their people, but that was a resource the First Order wanted, always in need of foot soldiers once the cloning facilities were out of their reach.

"The tribes in the north, always warring among themselves, gave their children willingly. Soldiers are revered among them, and for their kin to be part of a force like the First Order was an honour," Ren'qui had explained, her dark eyes filled with sadness. "We didn't; we are mainly hunters and farmers, a peaceful tribe like our neighbours, but the First Order did not care. They came in the night and took our youngest, and anyone who tried to stop them was killed in cold blood."

There had been anger and grief in her voice and expression, and he felt a surge of those same emotions at her tale, a familiar face coming to the forefront of his mind for an instant. It was gone just as quickly, leaving him confused and sad without knowing why.

"We mourned our death and our children, who were lost to us as well, and moved on. We have been left alone mostly; the First Order took what they needed from us and the resistance didn't know or care about it."

Ren'qui's tribe, he found out, was mainly nomadic, moving between settlements depending on the season. Suuran was a blue and green planet, alternating huge expanses of forest with large bodies of water, and the three main seasons fluctuate wildly between hot and cold, the minute differences in the terrain deeply felt in the temperature. It was the mild season, Ren'qui had informed him, or he would have not survived the first night in the cold before he was found.

"Have you remembered anything, Stranger?" She has taken to call him that, and he imagines if anyone else was talking to him, they would address him in the same fashion. He does not like it, but he does not have a name to give them, and Ren'qui refuses to call him anything but that until he has. Names have power, she had insisted, and they will not use the wrong one in fear of taking something important away from him.

"No," he says, and he can hear the frustration in his voice. They had believed, when he woke up confused and in pain, that his memories would return as soon as he was fully conscious. They have not, and he can almost feel them on the edge of his consciousness, just out of his reach.

She enters the hut and hands him a bowl of food, some kind of meat stew full of rich spice that smells wonderful. "You need more rest, then," Ren'qui says, fully believing that is the solution.

"I am rested," he protests, but he accepts the food and wolfs it down, the spice warming him up from the inside. "I need to move, I need to contact--" he trails off, unable to finish that thought. Who does he need to contact? How would he do it if his ship is destroyed? And who will he tell them he is? Ren'qui is looking at him with the same patient expression she had the other times he has tried to move only to be stopped by his own injuries. He chafes at the forced immobility, and can almost see another kindly face weathered by grief and time looking down at him with an amused smile. ' _You need to heal, Mr-best-pilot, or I am not sending you out again.'_

He startles and the image dissolves, leaving nothing behind for him to hold on to.

"I will send one of the children for the bowl later," she says when nothing else is forthcoming, and hands him a water skin. She stands from her crouch with little effort considering her age, her expression softening in sympathy. "You rest some more."

"Thanks, Ren'qui," he says with a resigned smile. No use arguing with her, especially because she is right, as much as he doesn't like it; he can barely move from his cot without aggravating his injuries.

Once he is fed and watered, he goes back to the only activity allowed to him in his state: the contemplation of the suit.

Like the previous times, any secrets it holds it keeps hidden from him.

…

_There is an orange and white droid following him through a battlefield in a desert, the sounds of fire and death all around them. He runs towards a ship, the droid rolling at his heels, and tries to leave the carnage. He wants to stay and fight, it is his fault these people are being attacked, but his mission is more important. The decision is taken off his hands when the main engine of his ship is blown, and he jumps out if the cockpit with a curse, the droid next to him._

_He crouches and talks to the droid, though he can't hear his own words or the beeped reply in the middle of the noise of blasters and screams. He hands something to the droid, and turns back into the fray._

_"I'll come back for you, buddy_."

…

He wakes up in the same hut in Suuran, the feeling of warm sand and the smell of fire and death chasing him from the dream.

_From the memory_ ; he is sure it was a memory.

With an effort he manages to pull himself up from the cot, his muscles straining and a sharp pain in his chest reminding him he still has a couple of broken ribs and should not be moving much. He doesn't care, it is the first clue he has about himself, and he needs to know if the droid was with him when he fell, and where it is now. Gritting his teeth, he slowly limps towards the door of the hut, his splintered leg barely able to hold his weight for more than a second.

After what feels like an age he makes it outside, panting and close to passing out from the pain and the effort. It is the first time he sees the settlement, little more than a series of wooden huts like the one he has been inhabiting surrounding a bigger structure. The dim light of dawn shows him the forest that begins not even twenty metres away from the last hut, huge blue-ish trees covering everything for miles and miles. The settlement is mostly in silence, too early for the people to be awake, and he has no idea where to move from there, doesn't know which hut belongs to Ren'qui or if he should be disturbing her this early in the morning.

He has not been there more than a minute, staring at the forest and trying to decide which direction he should move to, when someone emerges from the closest hut. It is a man around his age, tall and heavily built, his muscled torso bared in the warm morning. The man stares surprised for a heartbeat, then begins to speak fast and harsh in a language he has no hope of understanding, hands gesticulating wildly.

"Sorry, I don't know what you're saying," he says, and takes a step in the man's direction. His leg chooses that moment to give, and he crumples to the ground with a shout of pain, the breath knocked out of him.

In an instant the man is by his side, looking concerned, and he feels a smile on his lips seeing a familiar expression on the dark eyes. "Don't worry, buddy. I'll be fine." The expression turns into one of frustration immediately, the familiarity of the features fading as it had been only in his mind, and the man looks over his shoulder and continues speaking in the same harsh tones as before.

"You are very foolish, Stranger," Ren'qui appears in his field of vision, followed by what must be most of the settlement, men and women with the same dark skin and eyes coming out of their huts, little children staring curiously from behind their parent's legs. He feels like a specimen under a microscope, can feel the judgement in every pair of eyes fixed on him. "You cannot be moving on your own yet, you will injure yourself more."

He doesn't care, what he has to say is more important.

"I remembered something."

…

"It is an orange and white droid," he explains once they are back inside the hut, looking at Shun for help.  

Shun, Ren'qui's son, is the man who had picked him up from the ground and helped him gently, in spite of what sounded like very vocal protests, back to his cot. He is still there, listening but not participating in the argument.

"If it is still there, Stranger," Ren'qui responds with a shake of her head. They have been going back and forth about the same thing for the past half an hour, and he understands her reasons for not wanting to send anyone; they have already done more than enough for him, it feels selfish to keep pushing. "It is broken beyond repair."

He refuses to believe in that possibility, not only because right now the droid is his best chance of remembering anything, but the idea of it broken instead of chirping at him and rolling by his side is enough to make his stomach clench with dread.

"We don't know that."

"The ship exploded, it is a miracle you are not dead. You will recover your memories with time and rest."

He wants to believe that, he really wants to, but he has rested enough and the only thing that came to him was that dream. He knows it is important to retrieve the droid, and not just because of the memories it might hold.

"If it's broken, I will fix it," he insists, almost pleading with her.

"The forest is dangerous this early in the season, we went before to ensure the crash would not start a fire that would endanger us more, but we don't go inside the forest during this time. It is dangerous." There is finality in her tone, and he feels a surge anger and disappointment at them and himself, for being too weak to go himself and selfish enough to ask them for it.

He tries to move, go in spite of everything, but the short excursion outside was more taxing on his still-healing body than he wants to admit.

He lays back, face tight with pain. "He is my friend," he finally whispers, eyes stinging and shoulders hunched in defeat. He'll have to do it himself once he is able.

Shun looks at him long and hard; whatever he sees in his expression makes him nod once and speak in stilted basic. "I'll go."

…

The wait is the worst part.

Shun has been gone for two days, and he tries to be on his best behaviour to appease Ren'qui, who had looked at him reproachfully when her son went against her orders. She has not brought it up again, and keeps bringing him food and water to the hut, and talking to him when he asks a question, but there is something in her eyes that wasn't there before, and he feels responsible for it.

He eats what they bring him, and sleeps when they tell him to, and he does the easy exercises allowed to him to begin regaining strength. He's still confined to the the hut, and so far has not managed more than one complete trip to the door and back to his cot without being completely wiped out. He hates recovery, and has the feeling he wouldn't be a much better patient if he was wherever it is he belongs.

"Shun will be back soon with your droid," Ren'qui says on the second night before leaving the hut with his empty food bowls.

He recognizes the worry in her voice, and hopes she is right.

For both of them.

…

_He's playing in the back garden, the sun is setting and the sky's getting dark, but he's still running rings around the tree growing there and chasing his own growing shadow while he waits for his mother to come back home. She has been gone for two days, the first time he has been without her for that long, and he doesn't like it but refuses to cry or complain because he is not a baby. He's already five, and can be without his mom for two whole days. He can._

_His father also misses her, he can tell in the way he keeps darting looks at the door even when he is in the middle of his work, the way he tries to hide his disappointment at every noise that doesn't resolve in the front door opening. They have been playing together outside, in his favorite spot under the shadow of the tree, but now his father is inside preparing dinner and he's alone, recreating epic battles with his tiny ships and pretending that one day he will be a Jedi like Luke Skywalker. Or a great pilot like his mom._

_Here, under the shadow of this tree, it feels possible. Everything feels possible._

_He hears the sound of the door opening and turns to look, and there she is, still on her flight suit and looking as beautiful as the stars in the sky. She smiles, and the world stops for a breathless second._

_He drops his toy ships and runs to her. "Mom!"_

_"Hello, Poe."_

_…_

He startles awake at the sound of someone coming inside.

It is not Ren'qui, he knows this; she is surprisingly stealthy and agile for someone her age and he never hears her coming in. She is there, though, and she is not alone.

Shun is back, and he looks tired but unharmed, his big frame taking over most of the door. He has a big bundle in his arms, covered with a brown cloth, but he can see the orange and white dome on top and he feels relief coursing inside of him.

"I found it, Stranger," Shun says, a weary smile on his face.

" _Poe_. My name is Poe."

...

  



	3. Poe

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay posting this, I hit a bit of a block and RL exploded on me. Will try to get the rest done before RL does me in again.

_There is an alien presence in Poe's head, something painful and slimy and terrible, moving unhindered through his memories and thoughts. Poe is trying to fight it, to push it away and hide that most important piece of information from it, but it is too painful and the presence is too strong._

_He can't falter, his mission is critical and if he were to fail BB-8 would be the one at risk. He can't; he can't do that to his friend, can't fail the General who has been looking for her brother for so long. He grits his teeth and resists for as long as he can, until he can't anymore and he shouts, and pushes against his restraints, tasting blood in his mouth and the bitterness of inevitable defeat._

_He is released suddenly, his body falling slack against the chair where he sits._

_His next screams are of pure rage_.

…

Poe wakes up with a scream lodged in his throat, the frustration and pain of the dream clinging unpleasantly to him.

Another memory, he knows, and this one makes a great total of six that have come to him in his dreams in the past couple of months, and so far the least useful of all of them; some things about himself he'd rather not know, and the fact that he can break under the right amount of pressure and give up his secrets and friends is one of them.

He takes a deep breath, letting the last vestiges of the dream disappear, and gets up from his cot. It is still dark outside, though the first light of dawn is painting the horizon purple and pink. It is going to be a hot day, same as the days before this one; the mild season is almost over and they are rapidly approaching the burn season. Soon the harvest will be over, and the settlement will be ready to move to a location north of the forest, where there is almost daily rain to cool the heat of Suuran's twin suns in their zeniths.

He walks to the edge of the forest and sits on the cool ground, his back against one of the trees, looking at the dormant settlement. In less than an hour Shun and Ren'qui will wake up, followed by the rest of the people, and the day work will begin. For Poe that means going with Shun to help in any way he can, repay some of the kindness they have shown him. He is almost completely healed, physically at least; his broken leg is back in perfect condition, not even a twinge of discomfort on the fewer and fewer rainy days, and he enjoys the ability to pull in full breaths once his ribs were also mended. His memory is a different tale, aside from the few glimpses of his past he gets in some of his dreams, he still has no real memories after two months.

It is incredibly frustrating, and the longer he spends in the settlement and works on his droid with no results, the more he wonders if all this is worth it. He has been working steadily on the droid every evening since Shun brought it back from the crash site, with nothing to show for it. Poe knows he has the knowledge to repair the droid, knows it's something he has done more than once, but like the rest of his knowledge, this is also buried deep inside the memories he can't reach.

Maybe it is better to leave the droid and the flight suit here when they move to the northern settlement, as Ren'qui suggested the last time Poe stomped out of his hut in a fit of pique cursing at everything. Maybe it's time to admit that whoever he was before, he might never know.

And nobody has come looking for him either.

This is not such a bad place to live. He likes it here, likes Ren'qui and Shun and the people who have been caring for him for the last months asking nothing in return. He loves playing with Ninie and Leida, Shun's children, when they bring their lunch to the fields. He enjoys the afternoons with Shun, who has become a friend, learning their language and helping him to improve his basic. He also enjoys the company of Ren'qui, and her tales of Suuran and the people who inhabit it.

This could become his home, the steady rhythm of the seasons in a planet barely touched by war, with people he has learned to care for, if only he was able to ignore the nagging feeling at the back of his mind reminding him that there is indeed a war going on, and that he is part of it.

And the itch that tells him his place is not on the ground, but among the stars.

He stands from his spot on the ground when Shun comes out of his hut, his eyes finding Poe with the ease of long practice.

"Good start, friend," Shun greets in his usual manner, the harsh tones of his language comforting in the silent morning.

"Good start, Shun, and good harvest." Poe returns in the same manner. Shun smiles at his mangled pronunciation while around them more people join them outside, the place coming to life under the beautiful light of the morning.

It is a new day, and they have work to do.

…

The northern settlement is quite different from the one they have just left, and everything around it is new and strange for Poe, who is staring at everything in wonder.

They have travelled for three days, the days turning cooler and more humid as the trip progressed, the rain falling almost constantly during the last day. It was a cheerful affair, exhausting as it was; two days after the end of the harvest the entire settlement had a celebration that lasted well into the morning, the big building in the middle opened to store most of the food for the following season, when they will leave the northern settlement for softer climates to prepare for the cold.

They don't farm in the burn season, Shun had explained, the soil too dry and parched in the southern regions, and too muddy in the north where the rain falls almost non stop. The burn season is for family and hunting; the time where they take the young ones to teach them to hunt. The northern settlement reflects this; there is no separate housing, but a big roofed structure that affords little to no privacy. They are further away from the forest than the other place, but the trees can still be seen from the edge, and on the east there's a silvery waterfall, the roar or the falling water drowned by the almost constant pitter-patter of rain.

Poe is drenched when they arrive, same as everyone else, and sweating. It's an unpleasant feeling, one he thinks he needs to get used to if he’s to survive the burn season. Nobody but him has complained even once, and the way Shun rolls his eyes at him every time he mentions it, all fond exasperation, makes him ache for the friends he can't remember, a big bearded face mirroring the expression in his mind for a second.

He is assigned a bunk next to Shun and his family, and he stores the few possessions he has acquired in the time he's been here, a few changes of clothes and his bag of tools, and deposits his droid next to his sleeping mat. Ren'qui had looked at him approvingly when he made the decision to carry the droid with him, to not give up just yet. It had not made the trip easy, lugging the ball of bolts and metal instead of having it rolling by his side, but the idea of leaving it behind had made his gut clench with unease.

They have another celebration once everyone is settled, the last of the provisions they carried for the trip consumed with the help of a sweet fruit wine they left fermenting the previous season.

"It's not as strong as Corellan brandy," Poe says for what might be the fourth time, if Ren'qui's indulgent smile is any indication, and he still has no idea how he knows this or when he had Corellan brandy before, but he is positive this is not as strong. "But it's more dangerous, you don't even notice how drunk you are until you are very, very drunk." He is very drunk. Drunker than he remembers being, and he chuckles at his own joke. "Not that I would remember being drunker."

"You won't even remember tonight if you keep drinking like this, friend," Shun says with a laugh, but he refills Poe's glass and touches it with his own.

"I have you here to remind me if I do something embarrassing." He downs his glass and it gets immediately refilled.

Around them everyone seems to be feeling the effects of the wine, the children already sleeping in their cots after the exhaustion of the travel and the excitement of the feast, conversations and laughs and the sound of happiness blanketing him.

Some couples are breaking apart from the party, heading out to look for a private place to enjoy each other's company; Poe knows that in his other life he would have been one of them, knows he is attractive enough that he has never lacked for willing partners to have fun. He still doesn't, there have been unsubtle looks and open invitations from a couple of women and men, beautiful people who were still not quite what he wants, _who he wants,_ even of he still doesn't know who would that be.

…

_"You know what my least favourite place in the entire base is? Yup, buddy, got it in one, it's the med bay. Used to be that the med-droids needed to chase after me to get me in for an after mission check up, and the General had to threaten to get Chewie to sit on me so I stayed put during a particularly bad recovery. And see me now, spending time willingly here."_

_Poe is sitting in the med bay, looking at the immobile figure on the bed the same he has for the past week. Poe knows the med-droid told him he was wasting his time, that with how extensive the damage was he wasn't going to wake up just yet, but Poe is loath to leave in case he does. He's defied expectations before, after all._

_"You know, you have to wake up. Rey is on the way to Skywalker, and I am on leave for now but soon I will be needed somewhere else, and I would hate for you to wake up alone. So please, buddy, wake up."_

_Next to him BB-8 chirps its agreement, and Poe smiles briefly at him._

_"I know he will."_

_…_

"I don't think that is the way to fix it."

Poe looks up at Shun's voice, hands stilling where he was about to hit the round surface of the droid one more time in utter frustration and anger. He looks at his hands, blinking at them as if surfacing from a dream, and notices the reddened and scraped knuckles and the first twinges of pain. His wench lays discarded on the muddy ground, next to the rest of his tools, and his droid is in front of him, still broken and silent, his darkened lens pointed at him in accusation.

With a defeated sigh Poe lets himself fall from his crouch on his ass, hiding his face on his hands. "I wouldn't know," is his muffled reply. "Might be this is way to do it."

Shun is silent next to him, patient. He knows Poe will voice his frustration without prompting, and waits for it.

"I know _I know_ how to fix the droid," he finally says, removing his hands from his face and grabbing the wrench again. "I know I have done it many times before, I practically built him from scrap," his voice rises as he speaks. "How I know this, I can't remember. I need him to remember, and to fix him I need to remember!"

It is exactly the same rant he has been repeating lately, the irony of it not lost to him, and where before he was frustrated by it, today he is furious. It has been long enough, there is nothing physically preventing him from remembering, and yet he has almost nothing, just snatches of dreams that occasionally remind him he used to be someone else.

"Hitting it won't fix it," Shun admonishes when he sees Poe about to strike the droid with the wrench in sheer frustration.

"Maybe, but it will make me feel better," he lies as he delivers the blow, the clang of the wrench hitting the metal of the droid incredibly loud. He feels awful immediately, not even surprised at the mixture or shame and guilt roiling in his gut, and lets the wrench fall from his hand, softly touching the place of impact. "Sorry, buddy, I am so sorry." He looks at  Shun, ashamed of his outburst, though there is no judgement in his eyes. "I left someone behind, I don't know much more than that, but there was someone important and I was afraid I wouldn't be by his side when he woke up, and I don't know if I was there or even if he did, only that I can't remember him now and I should."

Shun sits by his side in silence, his presence comforting. He's not one for empty platitudes, something Poe is grateful for. He reminds him of someone he can't remember, insane as that it.

"What if I never remember?" He asks the question that has been plaguing him since he woke up.

Shun looks seriously at him, and Poe already knows what he's going to say and is grateful for it, though it is not what he wants to hear. "You can live here, would that be so terrible?"

"No, it wouldn't." It's the truth, Suuran is a beautiful and peaceful place to live, and its people have been nothing but kind to Poe.

"But?" Shun prods, knowing it was there even if Poe had left it unsaid.

"I need to know. I need to know who the guy on the hospital bed is, and who am I to him." That is what is driving Poe insane, those faint impressions and snatches of a past that stays just out of his reach but keep taunting him with their presence. He thinks that if he didn't remember anything at all, if he had been a blank slate, he would be happy to stay with these people in this beautiful planet. "I need to see if that tree where the small boy played exists, and if I really have a bearded friend who rolls his eyes at me as much as you do. I need to be back in space, flying, and having stupid arguments with my droid. _I need to know who I am_."

Shun nods, understanding. "It has been almost an entire season."

"Yes." He is aware of how long it's been.

"You need to stop trying."

"What?" Poe turns fully to him, outraged. He has just told him why he needs to remember.

"Listen, my friend, this is not the way for you," Shun explains patiently. "You need to stop trying and distance yourself for a few days. Come with me and mine tonight, we'll be gone for a few days. Think of nothing but the hunt and the moment, and forget about the other you for a time. When we get back, if you still can't remember yourself, I will take you and your droid to Lydra."

"Would you do that for me?" Poe asks, touched. He knows of Lydra, the main city on Suuran's north hemisphere, it is half a world away for people who rely on their own feet to go from one place to another, maybe a standard week away if they had an speeder. He had asked about it at the beginning of his recovery, questioning whether there was a city nearby so he could get a message out as soon as he knew where to send the message to. He had found the droid after that, and focused all his energies on that.

Going to Lydra is a long shot; there is a chance someone there had the tools and knowledge to fix his droid, but in the event of it being beyond repair he will need to find another way to get a message to the resistance, and if was as easy as that, he doubts the resistance would have lasted as long as it has.

It still is the best chance he has.

He stands up, wipes his dirty hands on his trousers and offers one to Shun to help him up, a wide smile on his lips. "Thank you, buddy."

"Don't thank me yet," Shun returns his smile, "we still need to survive the hunt."

…

Ever since arriving in this Force forsaken rock of a planet the early meditation has been Rey's favourite time of day. It's the way she starts the morning, before she has to begin the grueling physical training regime and mental exercises Luke has assigned, when the sun is rising and she is left alone with her thoughts.

It's calming, just emptying her mind of everything but the feel of the Force inside her and all around her, the cool breeze on her face so different from the dry chill of the desert where she used to live.

She can feel it now, the subtle shifts on the Force in response to events and conflicts somewhere else in the galaxy, the energy connecting every living thing. She has tried to explain it to Finn during one of their infrequent chats, how she, who had always been so alone, now feels so connected to everything and everyone. Finn had listened and nodded, a half smile on his face so different from the wide grins from before. It is worrying, and she can feel his pain and sorrow when they talk, but there is nothing she can do to help him.

An insistent beep takes Rey out of her meditative state, and that is an improvement to Luke's disapproving stare when she veers off course and starts fretting about her friend during meditation, which is the way most mornings end for her. This time, it is R2-D2 beeping what distracts her, and she blinks slowly at the droid, trying to decypher his frantic binarie.

"I didn't get that," she says, feeling a bit slow. She can't have possibly translated that correctly. R2-D2 repeats the same thing, and Rey frowns at it. It seems she translated it just fine. " _What do you mean a distress signal from BB-8?_ "

**Author's Note:**

> I'm in [tumblr](http://aviss.tumblr.com/)


End file.
